Angels and More Angels
by SassyMasquerade
Summary: If you had the chance to change the future, would you? If you had the chance to find real love and real happiness, wouldn't you take that chance? Starring the Righteous Man, the High Functioning Sociopath, and Nerdy Specs. Supernatural, Doctor Who, and Sherlock crossover
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Angels and More Angels  
**Author:** SassyMasquerade  
**Word Count:** 337  
**Fandom:** Supernatural/Doctor Who/Sherlock  
**Summary:** If you had the chance to change the future, would you? If you had the chance to find _real_ love and _real _happiness, wouldn't you take that chance? Starring the Righteous Man, the High Functioning Sociopath, and Nerdy Specs.

"So," Dean started, tossing the bag of food he had managed to get from one of the last places open at eleven o'clock at night and not be a pizza places. "Got anything on the job Bobby sent us?"

"Uhh…" Sam looks up from his laptop and frowns slightly. His stomach had been messed up since the whole "getting his soul back" thing and the scent wafering from the bag was… Well, less than appealing. "The house is pretty weird. I mean, before the fire it was completely normal but now –"

"Wait," Dean interrupted as he sat across from his brother and unpacked his hoard. "Fire?"

Glancing back down to his laptop Sam continued, "Not _our _kind of fire, but weird enough." He turned the laptop screen toward Dean, revealing a photograph of a seemingly normal house. "House burned down in the 80's and got rebuilt a few years later by the property owners. But nobody ever bought it because it was supposed to be "cursed."

Dean handed Sam his burger and turned the laptop back towards him.

"And," Dean asked through a massive bite of his bacon cheeseburger.

"_And_ there's a pretty long list of people that'd've gone in there and gone missing, Dean. Like, four in the past year alone."

Gesturing towards Sam's laptop, Dean wipes the grease from his burger on his jeans and puts it down. Spinning the device around, he clicks on the list of missing persons and raises a brow. "Huh." Dean picks up a few fries and shoves them unceremoniously in his mouth before turning the screen back around.

"I was thinking vengeful spirit."

"That's what I'm thinking," Dean said, in thought.

"Worth checking out at least."

"Yeah, I think so."

Glancing down at his watch, Sam says, "Bright and early in the AM or do some asking around and try for later?"

Giving his brother an _If you think I'm getting up at 4 AM again, you're funny _look, Dean finishes off his burger says with conviction, "Later."

_**Authors Note:**_

Hi! Thanks for reading if you actually made it here. :) Sorry the first chapter is so little! But I plan on making other chapters _much_ longer. This is my first crossover fic and I really can't wait for y'all to see what I have ready for this. Next chapter you should meet Rose and the Doctor (10!) and Cas. If you could leave a review, that'd make my day! Love you all! – Miss. Sassy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Angels and More Angels  
**Author:** SassyMasquerade  
**Word Count:** 1,439  
**Fandom:** Supernatural/Doctor Who/Sherlock  
**Summary:** If you had the chance to change the future, would you? If you had the chance to find _real_ love and _real _happiness, wouldn't you take that chance? Starring the Righteous Man, the High Functioning Sociopath, and Nerdy Specs.

"Thank you, Ms. Lilly."

Dean gave the middle aged women a courteous nod before exiting the door with his brother. After they were a safe distance away from the home, Dean speaks.

"What a freak show that one was."

"More like scared, Dean."

"Call it whatever, that woman was _bat shit_, Sam," Dean said, sliding promptly into his Impala and loosening his tie.

After following Dean's lead, Sam sighs. His brother was completely unaware when it came to empathy. They had spent a good six hours running around town, interviewing a waitress and a teacher at the local school, ending with a neighbor that lived in the house next to the one that had been rebuilt. Susan Lilly had gone into a story about her sister being abducted by killer angels and how the same night the house beside hers burned down. _That_ was definitely enough to give the idea that she was crazy and even more since he knew even though angels were conniving sons of bitches, they weren't starting fires and kidnapping people. Even in the 80's.

The roar of the engine startles Sam out of his thoughts and he leans forward in his seat and strips himself of his jacket. The July heat was horrible and although the Impala's air conditioning was fixed, Sam still found himself sweating like a glass of tea in the sun eighty-five percent of the time.

"So are we checking it out tonight?"

"Well, I guess. Even with the shit story about some killer angels, it's still worth a look."

"So tell me, Mr. Holmes," a light, strong British accent trilled. "Why'd you say you didn't have any friends?"

The man of whom she had addressed continues tapping his pinky against the side of his tea cup. He had a story to tell these people he had decided to "board" with, especially since they had been so hospitable when it came to him figuring out their time traveling. And that there was no such thing as a Police Call Box.

"It's a long story."

"Not as long as mine," chimed in a man across the room, busy with the thing he called a "sonic screwdriver" and working on the "TARDIS."

"Very true, Doctor," said the women Sherlock had been told was named "Rose." "I couldn't even imagine how long that'd take to tell."

Intrigued, Sherlock raises a brow, "And why would that take so long… exactly?"

"Because a thousand and some odd years would take a thousand years to tell," the Doctor, said.

The suit-clad man was tinkering with the orb and protruding tubes in the middle of the room, using the instruments he always kept on his person as he did. He had been since take off, making sure his girl was running smoothly with their new guest.

Sherlock's brow raised, "You may have a space machine, Mr. Doctor, but it's impossible to live _**past 121**_ years." The matter-of-fact comment was made with a raised brow. The detective had been picked up 15 minutes before he fell a full _**FLKAKFLGALH **_stories and was made to believe what the Doctor and Rose had told him by taking him back in time (his forward) to witness such an event. He was a realist. He needed proof that he wasn't just kidnapped by idiots in a police box. And he was given it.

"If you say so," the Doctor says, a bit annoyed since he'd had the same conversation with Sherlock about 5 different times. "But the truth's the truth."

Before Rose could get the words of interjection out to keep the peace, the lights in the TARDIS flickered off and everything felt like it had crash landed. Rose latched instantly onto a bar and Sherlock's arm and held on for dear life until the tremors of whatever was happening stopped.

"Doctor?!"

"What the Hell?!" "The fuck was that?"

Dean glanced down at the EMF in his hand, the needle going haywire. "Whatever it was, it's nothin' good."

The house was decrepit, possibly once a manor on the corner but now the building was just a house without a resident and worn by the elements. The boards under Sam and Dean Winchester's groaned for the first time in years as they hurried forward, shotguns and salt at the ready. The thing that had been haunting this house had been sporadically attacking people for the last 50 years, having no clear pattern on the list of names that had been added to the list in recent years.

There was something about old, abandoned houses that creeped Sam out. They were like ghosts themselves, in a sense; decaying with their memories of a happier time. As they found an entrance to the basement, Sam shivered as they crossed over the doorframe, eyes darting out across the dust flying out of the room as Dean hauled ass down the stairs.

A glow illuminated throughout the downstairs of the aging house, shining dimly through the stained glass windows surrounding the outside door. If someone besides the Winchesters were to go inside and do a little exploring, they'd find a tall blue box standing in the middle of an empty room, light drifting out of the window under the wrap-around sign that read, "Police Public Call Box."

Faint music could be heard drifting through the interior of the box and the sounds of a horror movie as well.

Dean pointed his pistol straight at the box, hands overlapping. This was different; the aura around this was different.

Sam's eyes trailed over the exterior of the structure, examining the lettering and seemingly fresh painted woodwork

"Odd place to put a 'Police Box,'" Dean said, nearing it.

"Yeah," said Sam. "You gonna open it?"

"Might as well."

Before Dean could lay a hand on exterior handle, the door slammed open and outpoured a man in a suit, another in a dark coat, and a bright blonde girl, all coughing from the smoke pouring out of the top of the door.

"Well, that was fun," said one of them, over pleasantly.

"What was that, Doctor," asked the girl.

"I think that is the least of our concerns," said the other male, obviously the only one who noticed the guns pointed at them.

"Who are you," barked Dean, Sam sliding up beside him in order to block the only exit visible.

"Well, I don't see how that's any concern of yo –," started Sherlock.

"I'm the Doctor, of course. And this is Rose Tyler and Mr. Sherlock Holmes," the Doctor said, gesturing toward each of his companions as he spoke.

Sam's lips twirled into a small smirk as he huffed out a laugh.

"_Sam_," Dean said sharply, not as an introduction but as a cue to shut the Hell up.

"Sorry," said Sam. "What are you doing here?"

"I was working on the TARDIS and headed to 19th Century London before something crashed into us," the Doctor started.

"Don't you think you need to keep your… _Ventures_ to yourself," asked Sherlock as Rose twapped him in the arm. He gave her a disgusted look.

A curious look crossed the Doctor's face, saying, "Why?"

Exchanging looks with his brother, Dean rolls his eyes. "I get it: you're crazy. Don't tell me what you're doing down here."

"Well," the Doctor said. "Whatever hit us brought us here…. Where _is _here, by the way?"

"You're in Missouri," Sam said.

"_No, no._ The year."

"What does this have anything to do with –," Sam started before Dean interrupts with, "Stop making shit up and answer the damn question!"

"He is telling the truth," a voice perked up behind the Winchesters.

Guns still pointed at the time traveling group before they realized that Castiel the Angel was standing behind them. Dean dropped the gun to his side as he deemed the trio not dangerous, for the moment at least, and lets his anger boil for a moment.

"What the fuck do you mean he's telling the truth, Cas," he asks, nearly growling out the question.

"He is telling the truth," Castiel repeats. "But there is no time to explain."

Stalking past Sam and Dean, he goes to the Doctor. "How fast can you get your space craft working?"

"Seeing as it was only an attack, it should be working in about… 11 seconds?" he responded.

"That will have to do," Castiel said, turning around to tap both Sam and Dean on the forehead and sending them all into the TARDIS, knowing they both would have objections into going into it.

"Well, alright then," the Doctor says, looking to both of his companions. "Into the TARDIS!"


End file.
